In Blighted Times Past
by SirKefka
Summary: A story set in the Fourth Blight, following a series of characters in Starkhaven of the Free Marches
1. Chapter 0 - Prologue

Sybil always had too much on her mind.

If she was at home, she was planning out dinner, calculating the number of days it had been since she had heard from that all-too-quiet daughter of hers, replaying the events of whatever book she was reading in her mind, and fighting not to have those terrible embarrassing memories pop back into her head.

When she was out, it was often the same, walking around with her eyes to the clouds, always distant to those around her, because her own thoughts were enough to keep her company.

Even now, in the worst moment of her life, her brain was swimming with memories, with possibilities, and trying to create a map of her town in her mind.

She was running for her life, and even now she couldn't simply focus on one thing at a time.

It was a scene out of a horror story, all around Sybil, fires roared their way through buildings, screams echoed down the street, and blood ran through the cracks in the cobblestone. She didn't know what she was running from, she didn't even know if anyone in the town was left alive, she just knew that she had to run.

She kept to the alleys, the small paths in between the shops and homes of her small provincial town. In her haste to get away, she still managed to notice that those monsters had already occupied almost every major road through the hamlet. If she could stay out of sight, then maybe, just maybe, she could find her way out of this hell. Perhaps she could even come back and see if Adrian was still –

But Adrian was gone.

Her husband had wanted to go and investigate the strange noises that he had heard coming from outside of their small one-story house. He went to open the door just a crack, to see if he could figure out what was happening, then –

A sword.

Blood on the walls.

A body hitting the floor.

She couldn't think about that now though, she had started running then, and she knew that she had to keep running now.

Her brain was an advantage she kept telling herself, if she was going to get out of this mess, then she was going to have to use it. If it was so insistent of bringing up old memories even now, then she would tell the blighted thing which ones to remember.

Hiding from the Revered Mother after her and Adrian couldn't stop giggling during the Chant of Light, where did they run again? Jogging with her daughter as the sun came up, where were the quietest parts of their trail? When they had lost their little Pawkins, where had the troublesome cat end up finding shelter?

She used these memories and more to dodge her way through the town, ignoring the chaos going on around her. Adrian may be dead, but if she could just get out of here, then perhaps she could see the one person in her family who may yet still live.

The walls of buildings blurred around her as she ran through alley after alley, small road after small road, until finally the world opened to her.

The empty fields of Gale's farm lay in front of her, and she cursed herself for forgetting that the harvest had already come and gone. The crops would offer her no shelter, but the forest line in the distance would. If she could just get there, then she could begin to slowly make her way to Starkhaven, and perhaps find some justice for what had been done to her family and friends.

She surveyed the farm and, mercifully, it looked like she was going to have a clear run to the forest. Sybil closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thankful for all of those runs that –

Something pressed against her back.

She spun around instinctively, as ready as she could be to face whatever monster might be before her.

But there was no one there.

Her breathing became rapid as the panic began to set in, she was certain that she felt something, so where did they go?

Then her breathing began to hurt.

Raising her hand to her chest, Sybil's heart sank as she felt something a few inches from her body. A bloody arrowhead, with the shaft sticking between her ribs.

She dropped to her knees as her breath continued to leave her, and looked back towards the empty farm and the forest behind it. So close, and yet so far. Grabbing the shaft of the arrow, Sybil tried to pull it out, but it was no use. There was no strength left in her grip, and her hands fell limply to her sides.

Slipping into unconsciousness, her eyes raised to the skies as the rest of her body fell backwards. Her vision blurring, the last thing that she would see was the distorted face of her killer.

Though she couldn't see much, she knew that it was smiling.


	2. Chapter 1 - On the Bar Room Floor

A red-haired dwarf teetered beside a seated woman, his unfocused eyes struggling to not drift their way down towards her cleavage, and failing miserably. The pensive Marcus sat at the end of the bar, staring into his drink while contemplating the mysteries of the universe, such as how he was going to pay this month's rent. A group of merchants from the Alienage had pushed a bunch of tables together, and were exchanging stories, trying to figure out who had the worst customers of the day. Meanwhile, Pit worked to clean ale off of the counter.

All in all, it was a pretty standard Tuesday at Pit's Stop.

"Hey Pit, have we got any of that red wine back yet?"

It was Johnny asking, the new waiter that Pit brought on after another staff member decided to shop showing up to work. It was frustrating, and always led to an awkward transition, but such was life in Starkhaven.

"Which one? We ran out of a couple over the weekend."

Johnny opened his mouth, and then froze. Holding up a finger, he ran back to the table in the corner.

 _Awkward transitions indeed._

"The Tevinter shit, apparently it's the only stuff he'll drink. Did we get that one back  
yet?"

Pit took a look at the man in the corner, a middle-aged human with an angular face and a receding hairline. Without answering Johnny's question, Pit poured a glass of red wine from one of the bottles behind the bar and handed it to him, trying to hide the label.

"Wait, isn't that the Antivan stuff? He's not going to drink that!"

Pit glanced at the man in the corner, he was busy watching the red-haired dwarf get a drink thrown in his face. The entire bar erupted in a sarcastic cheer and applause, and Pit was confident that he didn't hear what Johnny said. He opened his mouth to explain, but someone cut between the two of them.

"Karl won't be able to tell the difference, he just likes the fruity stuff, and thinks that Tevinter sounds manlier."

Ria added a little huskiness to her voice at the last word, and set down her tray of empty mugs behind the bar.

"Just you wait Johnny, when Karl gets really drunk, he'll start only drinking things that are 'pretty colors with pretty tastes'. His words, not mine."

Johnny held back a laugh as he began to cross the room with the glass of wine, being careful to avoid the now-surly-looking red-haired dwarf. Ria and Pit surveyed the bar floor with a matching grin, there was something about the colourful characters that they had to deal with every night that made everything worth it.

"So, how's the new guy working out?"

"Still learning, but the customers seem to like him, so that's the important thing so far."

Ria nodded, she had been working with Pit the longest out of anyone else on staff, and had seen her fair share of people come and go over the years. She too had become accustomed to the reality of the business, and knew that not everyone had to be stellar servers, if they kept people happy, then that was often good enough. Other people like Ria and Pit could pick up the slack where needed, Maker knows they were used to it.

"How's your night going anyways?" Pit asked. "Haven't been watching your section, just figured that you were good."

"Oh it's a night, that's for sure."

"Table seven?"

"I thought you said you weren't watching!"

He hadn't been, but whenever a group of city guard comes in like that, they are pretty hard to ignore. Pit's Stop has had quite a few fights over the years, but the only times thing got especially serious or dangerous almost always had drunk guards involved. Of course, he wasn't about to curse himself by actually bringing up that possibility.

"I am all-knowing, I don't need to watch in order to know what's going on."

"Well if you're looking for anyone to smite tonight, you could start with those three."

Pit wished that he could find it in himself to be surprised, but he was far too used to their type. A little bit of power during the daytime gave them a magnificent sense of entitlement in the evening. There was a reason why everyone else in the bar had been giving them a wide berth, no one wants to talk to an off-duty guard these days.

"Is it anything new tonight? Or just the same old same old?"

"Have you ever known guards to be original? I swear none of them have ever seen an elf before, makes me feel like I'm on display or something.

It was something that Ria unfortunately dealt with often, being the only elf currently on staff gave her a sort of exotic appeal that some newcomers couldn't help but be drawn to. After a couple of drinks, they were often more than happy to let her know just how enthralled they were.

"Do you think you'll be alright?"

"Yeah," Ria replied with a heavy sigh. "Just keep an eye on them if you can, make sure they aren't leering too hard."

Pit nodded, there was an unspoken add-on to that request, an understanding that Pit had with each and every member of his staff.

 _Keep an eye on them, and stop them if they try anything._

Ria made her way back onto the floor once again, and Pit returned to preparing the drinks for the rest of the customers. Johnny seemed to have fallen into a groove, so thankfully Pit didn't have to watch him as much as he had earlier, so he was able to divert most of his attention to the trio of guards. Ria had just put down another round of drinks at their table, and one of the guards said something that Pit couldn't quite make out. Judging by the way that Ria quickly shot him down though, it wasn't anything pleasant.

"What's s'matter anyways hon? Got a little knife-eared lover waiting for you back at home? Just waiting to stick his little pecker inside o' you then eh?"

This drew a laugh from the rest of the guards, and precisely no one else in the room.

"That's right, and he's still twice as big as you are." Ria said with a wink.

This time, the guards simultaneously dropped their heads and stared into their drinks, while the rest of the bar erupted in laughter. Ria would have some fun with the guards later, make it clear that it was a joke, but hopefully leave them embarrassed enough to not come back.

Something about those three screamed trouble to Pit, and he could only cross his fingers and hope that they would return to the barracks and tell all of their friends to stay clear of Pit's Stop.

After all, a man can dream once in a while, can't he?


	3. Chapter 2 - The Walk Home

"Genlock's ballsack, you can't be serious."

"Pit Lucas, you wouldn't perhaps be insinuating that I am a liar now, would you?"

"Hey, don't twist my words Ria, I just can't believe that –"

"Well it's true!"

"Still though –"

"I know!"

"Huh, so Johnny is a writer then. I just can't picture him writing something like _Wardens in the Night_ , it's just so…scandalous."

"To be honest, I thought that's why you hired him."

This was the most that they would talk about work on the way home, it was another one of their unwritten rules: You don't talk about anything work-related on the way home, unless it's a particularly interesting bit of gossip.

"Maker," began Pit, "it might have actually stopped me from hiring him, I won't be able to get it out of my head now."

"That's what my entire night was like!" exclaimed Ria. "Every time that I looked at him tonight, I could just imagine him saying:" she switched into an attempt at a naïve young girl, "Edmund my love, why can't we just run away together? Let us leave this fortress behind and make a new life for us."

"I can't Talina" replied Pit, giving his best impression of a husky, powerful lover. "I only have one life to give, and I have already given that to the Grey Wardens. But," he stopped in the middle of the street, bringing his hand to his chest. "Know that my heart will always be yours."

Ria responded by blowing a raspberry at him.

This drew a giggle from the only other person sharing the street with them at this hour, a young woman with her hair a mess, trying to stealthily make her way home.

"That's right, we're goddamn adorable!" called out Ria.

The woman would probably think that the two of them were a couple, and it wouldn't be the first time. Why else would they be walking down the street together at this time of night? The reality of the situation was much less exciting, Pit just didn't like Ria walking back to the alienage alone at night. In years past, when they had other elves on staff, Pit would accompany them all home.

Although, judging by the looks that he got from strangers when he was surrounded by a crowd of young elven women, perhaps being mistaken as a playful boyfriend was the far lesser of two evils.

Continuing their way back down the streets of Starkhaven, Ria and Pit fell back into step again beside each other, with the familiarity of long companionship.

"So why do you think he did it anyways?" asked Pit.

"Because he was afraid of commitment, and the idea of running away with Talina scared him so much that he would rather push her away?"

"Not Edmund, you clod. Johnny, or rather, Jonathan Tower, why do you think he came to work for us?"

"I don't know actually…" Ria began. "I would have thought that a series about secrets trysts within the Grey Wardens would have sold well during a Blight."

It was a good point, now that they were ten years into a Blight, Grey Wardens were part of everyday conversation. In the time before Antiva City fell however, they were a thing of legend, a story that people would tell their children.

"Maybe it's just a little too real for people now," Pit theorized. "Hell, half the people who come into the bar have lost someone to the Blight in one way or another."

Ria didn't respond immediately, instead taking a couple moments to collect her thoughts. It happened quite often after a long night of work, sometimes their brains just didn't work as fast as they did at the start of the night. Spending eight hours being socially alert would drain anyone, and so they allowed each other a couple moments of silence without complaint.

"You know," she began. "Sometimes I forget that there is even a Blight happening right now. I know people are out there dying, and there's a blighted dragon destroying entire villages…but I still just want to curl up and read Grey Warden smut. Is that a bad thing?"

"Tragedies are a strange thing Ria. When they affect you directly, it seems like the entire world is falling apart. But when it's in the distance, some far off rumour that you keep hearing about, but never actually see…it's hard to consider it reality."

This did not seem to comfort her, the reminder that it was a true tragedy that was happening in the distance appeared to be a little too much for her to think about right now.

"Maybe that's for the best though." Said Pit, attempting to make the best of the conversation. "Everyone can't be focused on everything terrible that's happening in the world all the time. If you did that, then I don't know how you'd get out of bed in the morning."

"Oh we can't have that. Otherwise you'd have to go find a new erotica writer to come and work at the bar."

They both shared a laugh, somehow finding a trace of levity even when the night seemed darkest. That was one of the benefits of making people forget their troubles for a living, you became very skilled at doing it on your own time as well.

Continuing their walk through the streets of Starkhaven, they moved on to more inconsequential subjects of small talk. Sharing interesting stories that they had heard throughout the night, catching each other up on all of the gossip that had been spreading throughout the city, and even working in a few quips about the weather from time to time. The conversation wasn't anything special in its content, but it was important for them both to have some kind of way to unwind after the night.

As the streets became less and less maintained, and as the houses became cheaper and cheaper, they eventually worked their way into the alienage. Ria had talked for years about trying to save enough money so that she could finally move into one of the nicer residential areas in the city, but it still had yet to happen. She didn't talk about her living situation often, and whenever she did, all Pit could get out of her were fragments and hints, but he had a feeling that funds were not the issue.

While the customers at Pit's Stop were generally very accepting of Ria, the majority of Starkhaven still saw her the same way as the guards did tonight. Whether they saw her as a piece of eye candy, or as trash dirtying their streets, the bottom line is she was seen as something far less than a person. Pit guessed that she had earned the money to move out of the alienage years ago, but still had a problem finding a landlord that was willing to give her a fair shake.

As they reached her house, Pit was reminded that there was at least some sort of consolation for her situation. Though she did live in the alienage, she at least lived in one of the nicest houses in the alienage. Two stories, an actual front door, and only slightly cramped in terms of spacing, it was the best that an elf could hope to get unless they found their way into the rest of the city.

"So," began Pit. "Back into the mansion for the night?"

"Oh yes, I believe my butler should have my bath drawn by now. Andraste help him if he hasn't, or I'll have to whip the man again!"

Pit smiled, joking about a bad situation was a habit of both of theirs, and it never failed to bring a smile to their face even during the most upsetting of times; even if the smile ended up being a little forced.

"You know Pit, you don't have to walk me home every night, I don't think we have ever seen anything more than a passed out beggar on any of our walks lately."

"Umbria Farris, are you saying that you don't enjoy my company?" Pit asked, with a mock sense of shock in his voice.

"Oh shut it moron, you know that's not true. I just don't want to feel like I'm imposing, you must get home so late. Well, not that this is early, but you get my point."

"It's okay Ria, I'm never able to sleep right after work anyways, I need a good walk to clear my head. Besides, I'd rather know that you get home safe than stay up worrying the entire night."

"Maker, you're worse than a father, you know that?"

"Is that why all the girls have been calling me daddy? It makes so much sense now…"

"Okay, that's it, you're kicked out of my doorstep, go on, get!" Ria said, shooing Pit away with a huge grin on her face.

"See you tomorrow night?"

"And we'll do it all over again."

"Sounds like a plan."

With a wave, Ria closed the door behind her, leaving Pit alone in the middle of the alienage. This was always the part of the night that he dreaded, the long walk back home without any company.

He didn't like being alone with his thoughts, it was a dangerous place to be, too many memories could come up if he wasn't careful. So he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, and headed down the streets, back towards Pit's Stop.

When he had first started doing these walks, he had often been in a cold sweat by the time that he got back to the bar. His own mind torturing him so much that he had practically ran back to the safety of the familiar. Since then however, he had developed a few tricks to keep his mind occupied so that he didn't think of such things.

So as he walked back through the progressively nicer neighbourhoods, he did a mental count of all of the inventory at the bar. One block was devoted to counting through all the bottles of wine that he could remember seeing, and another block covered all of the hard liquor in his stores. When he finished with the alcohol, he moved onto his supplies. How many mugs had broken recently? How many chairs would need replacing soon?

By the time that he made his way through everything that he could remember seeing in his stock, he was just about back to his bar. The lantern light from inside gave the door an almost heavenly aura as he approached his home. As he mentally counted the last of his socks in his drawer, he felt a chill run down his spine.

He knew this street well, he walked through every day at its busiest moments and during the dead of night. He barely even had to pay attention to know that something was wrong, and tonight, there was most definitely something wrong.

He didn't react as he made his way towards the door however, not wanting to give himself away just in case he was wrong. But as he approached the wooden door into the bar, his suspicions were confirmed. The shadowy figure that he had caught at the beginning of the street, had just moved so that it was standing just across the street, in the shadows of the alley.

Someone had followed Pit home. And now they were only a few paces away.


	4. Chapter 3 - A Red Haired Visitor

Old instincts returning to him, Pit began scanning the area around him. The street was empty save for the two of them, so no one would be coming to his aid, or hers for that matter. He could tell from the weight of his jacket that his cudgel still sat in it's holster inside, it would only take a second to draw if the woman advanced on him. Her red hair was tied back in a utilitarian bun, could be a fashion choice, or could be so someone didn't have anything to grab onto during a fight; judging by the sheathed sword at her hip, it was probably the latter.

She had a simple cloth jacket on, and she was holding it closed tightly to her chest, but not tightly enough that Pit couldn't see the breastplate underneath. The way that the jacket bulged around her shoulders and arms, it was likely that she was wearing full armor. In fact, in the small amount of plate that he could see, he recognized the top of a familiar symbol.

Pit relaxed, his assessment only taking a couple of seconds to complete, but the woman clearly noticed him drop into a fighting stance. He would have to break that habit, it gave too much away.

"Something that I can help you with, templar?"

The words seemed to attack her, as she jumped back upon hearing her title. She let her jacket fall open, revealing what was indeed a full set of templar plate armor, complete with the skirt patterned with the symbol of the Chantry on it.

"This is your bar I assume? Then are you the one they call Pit?"

"Patrick, but yes, I run this establishment." He replied, intentionally abrupt. He didn't know what this woman was here for, but whenever templars left the Circle and came into the city, it was never for anything good.

"I've heard that you can help people." She said, being equally as short with him.

"All depends on what they need help with."

The templar stirred in the darkness, still hidden from the light of the lanterns along the street. It was an odd sight to Pit, a templar who so clearly didn't want to be seen. Typically, they were even worse than the city guard, flaunting their power as if the order had made them something akin to a god. Perhaps it had, in a way.

This woman was different though, he could describe her in many ways, yet arrogant and deific would not make the list, not right now at least.

"I was wondering if you could hide someone."

Pit hesitated, it was indeed something that he had done before. Dwarves who had left the Carta and wanted somewhere to lie low before they fled the city, star-crossed lovers who needed to hide from their parent's wrath. He did have a rule though, he never hid apostates. He was not about to risk the safety of everyone who relied on him to hide some renegade mage.

Since he was likely not in any sort of trouble from this woman, that could only mean one thing.

"What did you do?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at the figure in the darkness, who tried several times to open her mouth before finally speaking.

"Killed someone." she struggled to say. Pit had expected as much, murder is one of the few things that could actually get to a templar.

"Did they deserve it?"

The woman froze, perhaps not expecting that kind of reaction from Pit. In fact, most of the people that he knew would probably have been shocked that hearing a murder's confession would elicit almost no reaction from him. That's just because they didn't know how much death Pit had been around.

Recovering from her surprise, the templar nodded her head. Pit could read a lot from her, even as she was shrouded in darkness. She was scared, disgusted at herself, and lost, but she did not regret what she did.

Pit opened the door to the bar, the still burning lamps inside illuminating the dark street.

"Come inside."

"First things first, get that armor off." Pit demanded.

"Excuse me?"

In his mind, so long as she wore the armor, she was the enemy. He knew that it was a stupid way of judging people, but there were some things about his old life that had proved very hard to get over.

"You're safe here, I promise. I just can't have a regular conversation with someone who looks like she could kill me just by falling down."

Begrudgingly, she obliged. Beneath her armor, she wore the standard padded tunic and pants that all templars wore. Pit observed that both were stained with sweat, which wasn't unusual when someone fought in plate, but seemed to be a little too extreme for someone whose main job was to patrol corridors in a tower. Though she was covered with sweat, Pit found himself impressed by how muscled the templar was. With how timid she had been before, he had wondered if she stole the armor from someone, perhaps the person she killed. Judging by her physique though, this woman was a soldier, broad shoulders, strong arms, and –

"So, are you just going to check me out the entire night or something?"

Pit realized with a fair deal with embarrassment that he had been staring, and considering that some of the sweat stains had been on her chest…Well, it must not have looked good to say the least.

"Sorry, just couldn't help but notice that you look like you've had a fair bit of workout tonight."

The woman looked down at her clothing, and made a disgusted noise at her own appearance.

"Oh, yeah. That's plate armor for you I guess."

She seemed more comfortable since she was indoors at least, but Pit could tell it was going to be hard to get this one to talk. Thankfully, he had spent years training as a bartender for this exact kind of situation.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Oh, fuck yes."

Pit smiled, if there's one thing that he had learned in his life, it was that there was no awkwardness that alcohol couldn't fix, thought that is not always a good thing. He poured both of them a pint of ale, it was one of the benefits of running your own bar, you could dip into the stock whenever you wanted to. Pit just preferred to do it when there were no customers around, although he had known quite a few bartenders that didn't follow the same rules.

He handed her a mug, and she downed the ale as if it was water from the fountain of youth. Before he had a chance to sit down next to her, she had polished off her entire pint, so, like a good bartender, he poured her another one before he settled down.

Thankfully, she milked this pint a little slower, and the two of them sat in silence for several minutes. Pit still had to unwind after a long night of work, even though his walk with Ria always helped with that, a pint of ale always helped more. Meanwhile, this templar clearly had her own things that she had to unwind from, what it was remained a mystery however.

Finally, when they were both about halfway through their mug, Pit's first and her second, Pit felt it was appropriate to break the silence.

"So, can I at least ask your name?"

The woman paused for a moment, as if she had just been asked what the capital of Rivain was.

"Rosamunde, Rosamunde Thorne."

"Nice to meet you Rosamunde, what do your friends call you?"

Another pause, Pit was beginning to feel like a teacher giving an oral exam. Though for someone who was still unsure whether she could trust Pit, these questions were probably harder to answer than any Thedas history quiz.

"Rose."

"And my friends call me Pit, shocking, I know."

This got a smile out of her, though Pit couldn't tell if it was forced or not. Progress is progress however, so Pit decided to move onto the final exam.

"So, Rose, do you want to tell me what happened tonight?"

Instead of thinking this time, Rose took a long drink from her mug, and stared into its contents as she pulled it away from her mouth. Setting it back down on the table, she took in a deep breath and composed herself.

"I saved someone's life tonight."

"By...killing someone else?"

She nodded.

Pit supposed that was better than nothing, and at the very least it was enough for him to be relatively certain that Rose was safe to be around. He had started assuming that ever since he saw her shuddering in the darkness of the streets of Starkhaven, but one could never be sure what to think after finding out someone was a killer.

"And, now you want me to help you find somewhere to hide."

Another nod.

"For how long?"

"Until I can find some way out of the city, it shouldn't be more than a few days."

She was either lying, or was unaccustomed to life outside of the Circle. If she was simply someone looking to move to a different city, then it would take a couple of days to find a way out. As a murderer however –

"I don't think you'll be so lucky. There will be people looking for you, won't there?"

Surprisingly, Rose had no fear in her eyes as she nodded.

"You don't care that they'll be out there, do you?"

"If they find me, then they find me." She shrugged. "What's done is done, I have to try and live with it now, and accept the consequences if I am found."

"Well, that's just not going to work."

Rose looked crestfallen. She had come to a stranger, someone who was probably the last chance that she had to be safe over the next couple of days, and had seemingly struck out.

Pit always had a flair for the dramatic, and while he cursed himself for torturing the poor girl, he found himself smiling anyways.

"You see, if I'm going to take you in, I don't want you simply going out and getting caught the next day. What's the point in protecting someone if they just go run off and willingly get themselves killed?"

Hope returned to her eyes, just a glimmer of it, but it was there. Pit kept telling himself that he had to stop doing this, had to stop taking in any stray off the street that he could find and making their life better by sacrificing his own.

That look in her eyes though, that's what made it all worth it.

"First off, you're going to have to tell me everything eventually, it doesn't have to be tonight, but if I'm going to have you here then I want to know who it was that you killed anyways, not to mention why."

This dampened her mood slightly, but Pit could sense a little relief at knowing that she didn't have to go into it any more tonight.

"Second, if I ever tell you that you have to go, then you leave through the back exit as fast as possible. No questions, no arguments, you're gone. If that ever happens, give me four hours before you come back, that should be enough time for me to get the place clear again."

Another nod. She seemed to be quite fond of those.

"Lastly, and perhaps the most important…"

She edged forward in her chair, eager to hear what could be more important than murder or rules for flight.

"What size dress do you wear?"


End file.
